


Room 401

by earthseraph



Series: Apple [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baseball Player Dean, Earth Angel, Fluff, Hospitals, M/M, Naomi being an awesomeish mom, sad stuff, sick!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthseraph/pseuds/earthseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel knew he was sick, he knew he had fevers and was coughing nonstop. </p><p>(Dean never wanted to see Cas with out a blush ever again.)</p><p> </p><p>*It's not necessary to read any other parts of this verse, but it's slightly suggested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Room 401

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, again! Two fics in a two day time span, I'm on a roll, huh? I'm not going to lie, I cried while I wrote this. Hospital scenes just give me so many emotions. If any of ya'll follow me in instagram then you should have known to be prepared for these feels! 
> 
> I got the inspiration to write this when I wrote the flash back in the previous part of this verse c:
> 
> Does anyone get the title reference or am I just a huge sap?
> 
> Enjoy!  
> (Un-beta'd as usual cx)

Castiel figured it was nothing, just a simple cough. He decided that it was what came with the territory of being an asthmatic, nothing more nothing less.

It was a wet and rainy November in Kansas. Castiel hated both those things. He couldn't hide from the cold or shield himself from the wet. No matter how many layers of sweater and dri-fit clothing he had on, he'd always be freezing.

Castiel returned to his studies, ignoring the flashes of heat and chills that flowed through his body. He had a major AP United States History test approaching and if he wanted to keep his rank at number two, it was absolutely necessary that he passed this exam. 

Earlier in the day he kicked Dean out of his room and house all together. They weren't fighting, no, he just needed to study. And needless to say, Dean's pouty lips were very distracting.

Castiel put his pen down on his study book and placed his head into his hands, a wave of nausea and dizziness flowed his body. He decided it was time to get a glass of water. 

Castiel slowly rose from his desk chair, he held on to the back to gain his sense of direction. Slowly, he stumbled to the door. He paused for a moment when he got to the door, he placed his hand on the knob and and forehead against the cool wood. He opened the door and leaned against the wall while he walked to the stairs. 

The marble white stairs looked off, crooked. He held on the the rail and made his descent. About half way he felt his stomach churning, he placed his hand over his mouth, he felt bile rising, attempting to come out if him. He needed to cough. Bad. 

A fit of coughing and vomiting took over him, he slid down the wall while he threw up. He hadn't ate much today, mostly water and whatever Dean gave him for breakfast and what they served at lunch. 

He hunched over the vomit. Not being able to move, hardly being able to speak. 

"Mother.." He called, he needed to be louder in this house.

"Mom!" He yelled, groaning when his stomach turned.

"Mama!" He hadn't called her that in years, apparently his brain was telling him to go back in time.

"Castiel, what do you need? I am very-Castiel!" He heard the clack of her heels against the marble. 

She stopped on the step above him, avoiding the vomit and placing a hand on his sweaty forehead. "Hold on, honey. I'll call the ambulance, just- just hold on." 

He smiled when she called him "honey", he hasn't been called that in ages. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, coughing up mucus and dry heaving. 

"Mama," he said once she was done with the call. 

"Yes, honey?" She asked quietly, patting his back. 

He cracked open one of his eyes, "I love you, and dad, and Anna." 

"I know, honey. I know you do." She kissed his temple.

"I don't say it much, but I think I'll start if I make it out of this." He was smart enough to know that the extent he was coughing, throwing up, and dry heaving, that he was pretty bad. 

"Honey, are you saying your goodbyes already?" She whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. The perfect tear, he thought. 

"I have to be pre-" he started heaving again, "-prepared for the worst." He shrugged.

"No, you're going to make it out if this. You're going to grow old and grey. You're going to have a full life, okay? Don't give up yet." She cried, gripping his shoulder.

"I'm so tired though." He whispered. He's been tired more than usual this week. Coughing up mucus, studying and taking care of Dean. That took a toll.

...

Dean. 

"Mama, can you do me a favor?" He asked when she didn't reply. 

"Yes, honey?" She said through the tears. 

"Take care of Dean? He's going to be broken. I know him. He's going to be afraid, and brash. Let him stay in my room at the hospital. Just-" coughing, "take care of _my_ Dean.."

"Of course, honey. I'll do my best." She tried to not sound upset, or sad any manner. But when your seventeen year old son is giving you his "goodbye" speech, that's hard.

She heard the sirens outside, "I'll be back, honey. Just wait a little longer, okay?" 

Castiel tried to nod, it only made him fall slightly forward. He knew he was sick this week, he knew he had fevers and his asthma was worse than usual. But school was more important. Maybe he was stupid that he didn't take precautions or tell anyone, even Dean noticed. 

Castiel felt arms pick him up from the cold staircase, he opened his eyes to see the paramedics strapping him into a gurney and his mother at the bottom of the staircase. 

"Mama," he touched her arm when they reached her.

"Yes?" She said back, choking on a few gulps.

"Call Dean, I love you." He whispered, letting his fingers brush over her arm when he left. 

He saw her nod, she had his word.

\----

"What's wrong with him?" Dean asked. 

He doesn't remember the drive to the hospital, hell he doesn't even remember what he said when he answered. All he remembers is Naomi called, Cas was really sick in the hospital, they weren't sure if he was going to make it. 

To say he was worried was a fucking understatement. He's been here for about seven hours now, he hasn't been able to talk to Naomi until now, he hasn't been able to know how his boyfriend was. All he’s been able to do is pace in the small waiting room a pray to a non-fucking-existent god.

"He has a really severe case of pneumonia.." She said. They were both standing, just staring at the pale green wall of the children's ICU.

"I knew he was off this week.. How did it get this bad?" He's trying to keep the tears at bay, all he can do is roll his eyes up and shift his weight from leg to leg. 

"The disease has been in him for a little longer than a week. He never said anything. If it's not immediately treated its possible to kill you." She whispered the last part, he's never seen such a stoic woman become so broken. 

"I had to sign papers- papers for my child's funeral." She shrugged, arms crossed over her grey blazer. Her eyes had circles of grey underneath, she looked like she aged years over these stressful hours. Dean knew she was probably beating herself up over this, telling herself that she wasn’t an adequate mother. 

Dean turned to Namoi. He couldn't stand the doctors being insensitive, telling Naomi that she had to sign papers for her child’s funeral. He knew well enough that it was just something that had to be done when someone was sick to this extent, but if the doctors started giving up on him, then who was there to root him on? Sure Dean would be there, and Cas’ family, but the doctors were playing god in this moment. Not Naomi. Not Chuck. Not Anna. Not Dean. The doctors who knew Cas by physical features, not by his heart of gold. 

"He's not going to die." He whispered, it's all he could do to not scream. 

He felt Naomi's cold hand touch his. He grasped her hand, it was welcoming. "Dean, we need to be prepared for the worst." 

He understood what she meant, he couldn't act like it was a simple cold. He needed to thicken his skin for a possible death, as much as he didn't want to. It was a large possibility. 

Dean nodded, still holding onto her hand. It was the closest thing he had to his Cas right now. Closest thing he had to his baby. 

They kept looking at the wall. Both in a more than slight daze. Dean stopped himself from thinking about all the good times or thinking about what he was going to start doing for Cas. He couldn't start the believe that Cas was dead. He needed to be strong for his Cas. Hell, for Naomi. 

“Naomi Novak?” They both turned quickly, Naomi let go of Dean’s hand and quickly walked to the waiting nurse.

“This is she.” Her stoic face was back on, Dean noted.

“Castiel’s room is open, one person at a time, please. Only kin.” She looked back at Dean, narrowing her eyes like he was a culprit. Naomi followed her glare, to where Dean was standing tiredly.

“This is my son’s boyfriend, I believe he counts as kin.” 

“Ma’am, only close family.” She replied, crossing her arms.

Namoi half turned to Dean, pointing a finger at him,“That is my son’s _boyfriend_ , he will be let in.”

“Ma’am-”

“No, I have ties in high places. The people in those high places will gladly fire you on accounts of interference. My son’s sister is out of the country at the moment and his father is a very busy man that does things way above your pay grade. Now, after I exit my son’s room, his boyfriend will be entered. Understood?”

The nurse noded and directed Naomi to where her son’s room was. 

Dean gave Naomi a hopeful smile when she walked through the sliding doors to the ICU room. He sighed roughly and sat back on the arm chair. He was tired and sleepy, all he wanted was for this to be over and Cas to be okay. All he wanted was for the kid in that room to not be Cas. Castiel never did anything wrong, he wouldn't hurt a fly, he did his homework, he was nice to even the douchiest people, he had no animosity built up, he was sweet, he was everything Dean believed himself not to be. If he could he’d switch places with Cas in a heartbeat, but knowing Cas, he’d not be able to stand the thought of Dean in a comatose state. A state that he couldn't flirt with Cas, couldn't sing his classic rock, couldn't make him blush. 

Dean leaned his head back, he hoped Naomi would take a while watching Cas. He wasn’t ready to see him. He didn’t want to see him. He wanted to stay with the blushing Cas that kicked him out of his house earlier because all Dean would do is lean against Cas’ back and mouth up his jaw. He wanted to see that Cas again, not the one in the room.

“Dean, Dean,” he felt someone shaking his shoulder, _When the fuck did I fall asleep?_. He scrubbed his face with his hands and looked up at Naomi. Her cheeks were pink and her makeup was a bit smeared. She cried. Fucking shit, Cas must have been bad off. 

“You can go in, i’ll be out here if you need me.” She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He could do this.

“What room?” He asked, getting up to let her take his place.

“Room 401.” She sighed, taking the Dean-warmed seat.

Dean noded and hesitantly walked through the sliding doors. Turning back to see Naomi’s face resting in her hands, elbows on knees, and shoulders shaking from the rough sobbing she was doing. 

He turned back and walked to room 401. It was the second room in the hallway, he could do this. He washed his hands three times, just to be safe, and went in the room.

What he saw took the breath out of him. 

Cas was lying still in the hospital bed, he didn’t look lax and relaxed like how he usually looked when sleeping. His eyes were closed, his beautiful blues not showing in the least. He had a tub in his mouth, lips chapped and not moist and kissable. He had tubes in his nose, the pink gone. His hair looked _wrong_ , it was usually messy in a “I just had sex” kind of way, but now it was just up in sweaty tufts. The color from his cheeks were drained, no blushing Cas here. There were multiple IV’s in his arms and the heart monitor on his finger. 

Dean sighed roughly and sat down on the set next to Cas’ left hand. “I’m not sure if you can hear me, but I mean, they do it in movies. So why not?”

He grabbed Cas’ hand, it was artificially warm. “I uh, I need you to get better. It’s probably selfish as hell of me, but you’re my everything. I remember when I first met you. It was around third grade I think. You were on the swing, alone, you were always a bit of a loner, huh? Anyways, I remember going over to you and asking you what was up and you ever so obviously said the sky. Those words, man, those words made us.” Dean felt some hot tears trickle down his face. 

“I’m pretty sure if you were away you’d do that cute little frown and head tilt and tell me not to cry.” He shrugged his shoulders and let the tears pour, they were for an important person anyways. 

“I, uh, I heard a song today on pandora. And the moment I heard it I thought of you. I was gonna’ sing it to you during lunch tomorrow, we all know you have the hots for my southern twang.” He joked, trying to lighten the heavy mood he created. 

“I guess now’s as good a’ time as any to sing it to you, huh?” Dean pulled the wrinkled lined paper out of his pocket, the lyrics of the song were badly scrawled on the paper, some of the ink smudged and smeared. 

“Don’t laugh, okay?” He realized he’d get no response to that. 

“ _Earth Angel, Earth Angel,_  
Will you be mine?  
My darling dear,  
I’m just a fool,  
A fool in love with you-”

Dean felt his fingers drop the paper, he felt the sobs wreck through his body. He scooted himself forward on the chair and placed his head in Cas’ lap, still holding his hand. He needed his angel to get better. He never told Cas that he did love him, he couldn’t it was too soon. He remembered all the things he and Cas did together, from running around the park as little ten year olds, to playing wingman for each other, to confessing their non-platonic feelings, to their first kiss under Cas’ covers when they were barely trying to figure things out, to the awkward as hell dinner with Cas’ family, to Sammy asking if they were a thing, to earlier today when he gave Cas his letterman because it was too cold and Dean didn’t care if he got sick, he just needed Cas to be healthy and well.

Look how that turned out, he laughed to himself. 

He kept crying until he had no more tears to shed. He just kept his head in Cas’ lap. If Cas was going to live up to his name and join the god-squad up in heaven, he wanted to feel this artificial warmth. Even if it was multiple layers of cloth between Dean’s face and Cas’ thighs, this was better than nothing. 

Cas would probably be carding his fingers through Dean’s hair, simple touches were always the best. Simple hand holding when walking places or even when laying in the field after a long day of practice. Warm hugs when they felt like it or when one of them was having a shitty day. Chaste kisses when Cas was being playful or serious. Cheek cupping when they needed to get a point across. Even just shoulders and thighs touching when they were watching Star Trek for the billionth time because Cas was in love with Chris Pine. 

Dean sat up and looked at the comatose Cas. He pressed his hand to Cas’ cheek and sadly smiled. He hoped Cas would survive this, survive the battle inside him. If not, he was honored to be able to love someone like Cas. Even if that love wasn’t returned, he was glad that he got to share that with him. 

Dean rose from his seat and pressed a chaste kiss to Cas; forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow, baby. Hope you’re not lonesome tonight.”

Dean waited till he got out of the ICU and into the waiting room to break down. In Cas’ that was only the outside shell. He slumped down on the wall by Naomi and pressed his hands into his face. His noisey sobs were choked out, because that wasn’t the Cas he knew in there. It didn’t look like him, it wasn’t him. 

“I know, honey, I know.” He heard his mother's voice and looked up to see her blonde curls and a sad watery smile. 

He pulled her down to the floor with him, hugging her while she rubbed his back in circles. “I-i-it’s n-not him,” he cried, “t-that-that’s not m-my C-cas!” he sobbed into the crook of her neck. 

“Shh, shh, it’s going to be okay.” Even she didn’t sound convinced.

“Y-you don’t know t-that, m-mom. He could be d-d-d-dead tomorrow.” He whispered.

“Dean, you need to be strong. You need to root for Cas, you need be optimistic. Thinking this way isn’t going to help anything.”

“I know, b-but what if he? Then what?” He couldn't even say the word anymore, it was like taboo on his tongue.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get there, okay?”

Dean nodded.

“Let’s get you home then.”

\----

Two weeks had past. Each day was more of a blur than the previous. He was dazed in his classes, wondering what if he couldn’t say goodbye, what if Cas never knew that he loved him? 

He visited the ICU daily, most of the nurses knew him by name and Cas’ doctor was looking pretty pissed with the fact that Dean was always in Cas’ room. He always brought books to read to Cas. They ranged from The Hobbit to Gossip Girl, because Cas had a thing for sleazy high school dramas. Sometimes Dean would bring up his guitar and play him songs that he figured Cas liked or that Cas did like. It ranged from Led Zepplin to Marina and The Diamonds, needless to say, nurses liked hearing Dean sing Homewrecker. Somedays Dean would just watch the reassuring rise and fall of Cas’ chest, or the twitch in Cas’ eyebrow that would make him smile.

Today, Dean was pissed. His coach wouldn’t him out of practice to go see Cas. He said that there was nothing to see and that if he wanted that scholarship he needed to pitch his 80mph balls. Dean knew that if he pitched his 80mph ball at his coaches head Cas would be disappointed and give him a look that should be reserved for kittens who rip up the toilet paper. 

He was angry, maybe pitching could blow some steam. He changed into his uniform and grabbed his glove, he might go a little rogue on the mound. But pitching is pitching right? He placed himself on the red mound and squinted to where Benny was ready with his bat. He lifted his left leg up, angled his arms and threw the ball. It _may_ have been a little faster and with more thickness than his usual aerodynamic throws.

“Winchester!” He turned to see his coach calling him with a phone pressed to his ear.

 _Shit, it was only one fucking rogue ball._ He thought to himself, jogging to get to his coach. 

“Miss. Novak is here to get ya’, son.”

“Oh god, no, is he-” He felt like he was punched in his stomach. He slowly sat on the floor, the sprigs of grass poking through his uniform pants.

His coach nealed next to him, “Your boy’s awake and askin’ for you, go get em’.”

Dean looked up at the large smile on his coach’s face and quickly nodded. He ran to the locker room and grabbed his sports duffel and backpack, not caring that he was in his baseball uniform and he probably smelled like grass. He quickly navigated his way through the school and out to the parking lot, thanking the gods that he didn’t bring baby to school because he was too tired to drive. He jumped in Naomi’s white BMW, it smelled like clorox and febreeze. 

“Is he really awake?” Dean quickly asked, still out of breath from his impromptu sprint.

“Yes, he’s tired, but awake.” She replied, looking at the road but with a small smile playing on her face none the less.

“And he really asked for me?” Dean smirked, he felt better than he had in ages. Cas was awake and Cas asked Cas asked for him. Two things that he never knew could make his life so much better.

“Yes, it was about the third thing he asked. First being if that was heaven because if it was he wants to go back down to earth, second for me and third for you.” 

Dean smiled as they drove to the hospital, the rest of the trip was quiet. Even the trip up the elevator. He felt nervous, like he was seeing Cas for the first time after war. He walked to room 401, taking a deep breath then walking through the door.

“Hey, cutie. Come here often?” He teased, his voice breaking slightly with the sight of blushing Cas.

“Dean!” Cas yelled, looking like the happiest person in the world. His smile so wide that botox doctors wanted the layout. 

Dean moved and sat on the edge of Cas’ bed, grabbing both hand. They weren't artificially warm.

“I’ve missed you.” Dean whispered, tracing sweet nothings into the back of Cas’ hand.

“I too, have missed you.” He replied back, squeezing his hand lightly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired, they still don’t know a definite about the state of my health.” Cas sighed, resting his head back on his pillow.

“Do you need anything, babe?” Dean was prepared to go across the world for Cas if it meant he’d feel better.

“Will you lay with me?” He whispered quietly, a shy blush creeping up his face.

“I’d be honored.” Dean rose from the bed and flicked off the lights. He removed his cleats and set the under Cas’ bed. He moved to Cas’ left side and slid under the blankets with him. Dean was glad Cas as the thin-northerner genetic going on, that way they could both lay in the small twin bed. 

“I’m glad you were here when I wasn't awake.” Castiel muttered. 

“Me too, Cas.” Dean sighed, cautiously wrapping an arms around Cas’ waist.

“It’s all going to be okay.” Castiel said, placing his arm over Dean’s liking the warmth of another human and not the itchy hospital blankets.

“Yeah, Cas. It is.” Dean kissed the underside of Cas’ jaw, smiling lightly when Cas hummed in content.

They both closed their eyes, smiling lightly, liking each others warmth and believing that it all was going to be okay.

And it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone want to see anything in sepf? I'm working on a Sam-is-suspecting-something part, so anything else for this verse? 
> 
> Thanks for all the views and love, guys!


End file.
